


Museum People

by deathgurgle



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Museum AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:47:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathgurgle/pseuds/deathgurgle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann Gottlieb, the historical tour guide at the Shatterdome Museum, would love his job if it weren't for the absolutely insufferable dinosaur exhibit guide, Newton Geiszler, who is just as childish as the children he teaches. Or maybe he makes it better. It's not like Hermann would ever admit to something like that; that'd be ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this post: http://stalkingyermom.tumblr.com/post/100557666019 and I fell in love with this idea and got really inspired whoops  
> Beta by my lovely friend all-hail-jeremy-brett on tumblr

Working at the museum was lovely. People of all sorts came and went, and they were all generally pleasant, with the exception of the expected bratty children that would rather be anywhere else in the world but there. But even with all the detestable people, Hermann enjoyed his job; guiding the masses about the facility, explaining the history behind each exhibit, seeing the looks of wonder on their faces —it was all satisfying. Even the people he worked with were delightful. Tendo Choi, who kept the audio animatronics throughout the many exhibits in tip-top shape, was always pleasant to talk to, and the curator Stacker Pentecost was kindhearted and respectful.

"Alright kids, you're gonna _love_ this next one. This bad boy is called an ankylosaurus. He was an herbivore which means he only ate plants and stuff. That huge club on the end of his tail was his way of beatin' up anyone that wanted to make a meal out of him."

Oh right. _Him._ Newton Geiszler, the absolutely immature children's guide for the popular dinosaur exhibit, whose voice seemed to be able to travel from one end of the museum to the other. And its high tone grated on Hermann with such an intensity that he found himself gripping his cane tighter and clenching his teeth. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to relax and give a pleasant smile to the small crowd that gathered around him.

"Right, yes, my apologies. As I was saying, this diorama portrays the storming of Normandy. Its official operation name, you may not be aware of, was 'Operation Overlord.' On June the 6th, 1944 the British, Americans, Canadians, and Poles —although the Poles were mainly apart of the air strike —stormed the beaches of Normandy, France," Hermann explained easily, gesturing to the display of tiny figures with his cane, and he smiled at the students taking notes. It was always particularly satisfying to see younger visitors taking an honest interest in the history.

"Were there any Australians there too?" a voice asked, Australian accent heavy, and Hermann spotted the young boy who couldn't be any older than fifteen.

"Indeed there were, although hardly in any substantial numbers. Any colony of Britain's at the time was included in the war to fight alongside with the Allies. The main Allies were not the only countries that fought against the Axis. Mexico, Iceland, Turkey, and several others were involved, although they did not do much to assist them," Hermann answered casually, glad to have a question to answer.

"And _this_ is the _oldest_ dinosaur in the _entire_ museum! He's called a Hermann Grumpysaurus."

Hermann tensed as he felt a hand slap onto his back, and he whipped around to see a beaming Newton with at least a dozen kids cluttered behind him of various ages. They all giggled as Hermann fumed, teeth clenching.

"Mister Geiszler, I have asked you several times to cease interrupting my historical tours and I suggest that you yourself focus on your own."

"Dude, what? Lighten up, man, I was just joking around. I finished up my tour a few minutes ago, wanted to do something funny for the kids. That was funny, right guys?" Newton turned to the children gathered around and he stretched his arms out with a huge grin. The kids all nodded with wide grins. Hermann cleared his throat.

"I believe it would be in your best interest that you return them to their parents now," Hermann suggested, sending a nasty and threatening glare in his direction.

"OKay okay, yeah, fine. Come on kids, let's get back to your moms and dads."

Hermann sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched Newton leave, the man jovially talking with the children that surrounded him. He sighed and shook his head in annoyance.

"Don't let what that young man said get to you," an elderly woman chirped once Newton was out of earshot, and Hermann smiled politely at her.

"Yes. Thank you, madam. It appears that he is feeling especially restless and irritating today," Hermann groused to himself, and he ran a hand over his lapel before slowly making his way along the wall and gesturing with his free hand to the different displays available. "But in any event, let us continue our tour and finish the second World War, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now I'm gonna keep it unrated just until i start to get into this and figure out just how mature I'm going to make it


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by my favorite Kaiju grrroupie, allhailjeremybrett on tumblr

Sitting in the break room, finally able to relax, Hermann sighed to himself with a content smile. The two breaks he was allotted other than his lunch were a saving grace on his leg. He appreciated the quiet time to himself before he would once again return to guiding the groups of people about the museum. It was during these times that he would take advantage of the silence of the empty room, knowing when to time his breaks to avoid nearly every one of his coworkers, and he would sit down with a novel or even a textbook to read in peace.

"Hey, yo Hermann!"

Hermann cringed as the page he held in mid-turn between index finger and thumb crumpled at the corner. Brow creased, he took note of what page he was on before shutting his novel and smoothing the cover of the dust jacket. He turned his head to look at the man who stood beside his seat, several feet away.

"Firstly, I have asked you _countless_ times to not address me by my first name. Our relationship is strictly professional and I expect you will act appropriately," Hermann chided, turning his body to fully face the other, "Secondly, I am going to bring attention to your little _joke_ you pulled earlier. It was completely immature. I do not appreciate it and you will cease these shenanigans _immediately_. I would like to believe you are not absolutely incorrigible."

"Yeah, right right. Yeah. I mean, I'm still gonna call you by your first name. There's no stopping that. And you _seriously_ need to lighten up," Newton spoke easily, making his way around to sit in the chair opposite Hermann's, and he quickly switched topics when he spoke again, "What're you reading? Is that Elizabeth Peters? _God_ , I love her stuff! I didn't know you were into anything cool like archaeology."

Hermann sniffed and his lip curled, deciding to ignore the hasty transition of subjects. He shifted in his seat, not quite facing the man opposite head on, and he let his gaze flick down to the book he was grasping. He cleared his throat and nodded, disregarding the backhanded compliment given to him.

"Yes. I do enjoy mysteries and the history of Egypt is especially fascinating," he replied curtly, desperately hoping that Newton would catch his subtle hint that he would rather be left alone. But it wasn't as if he had high hopes for that happening.

"Yeah, the tomb exploring and all that is just so _cool_. If I didn't love paleontology so much I would've liked to have been an archaeologist. Or a biologist. Organisms of any kind interest me, really. They're just so awesome, y'know?"

"Mm, quite."

"So uh, what's your favorite book—"

" _Mister Geiszler_ ," Hermann interrupted with a quiet sigh, "as much as I would love to discuss literature with you —because God knows there is hardly anything else in the world I would prefer to hear come out of your mouth —I rather would like to continue reading and perhaps finish another chapter by the end of my break."

To emphasize, Hermann slipped his cell phone from his pocket to check the time. Newton rubbed the back of his neck and nodded, eyes cast downward to his shoes.

"No, yeah, I got it. I read you loud and clear, Herms. Just thought we could talk 'bout your book is all. _Crocodile on the Sandbank_ , right? Yeah, I read it a couple months ago..." he practically muttered, eyes peeking back up to look at Hermann over the rim of his glasses. When Hermann gave him a funny look, he stood and began to make his way to the exit.

"Oh and uh," he paused by the side of Hermann's chair and leaned down to whisper into his ear, "the mummy is Alberto and Evelyn inherited the money. Not Lucas."

The sputtering that came from Hermann that followed brought a smirk to Newt's lips that stayed even after he left. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta of course by the ever lovely allhailjeremybrett on tumblr <3

Hermann wasn't necessarily a grudge holder, or at least he told himself that he wasn't. But regardless, he couldn't stop thinking of means of revenge to inflict upon his coworker who thought it necessary to reveal the ending of his book. He wondered to himself if Newton was reading anything currently that Hermann had already read. It took up nearly all of his attention, this vengeance seeking, and he found himself distracted and losing his train of thought as he guided the groups of people through the Revolutionary War exhibit.

"My apologies, ladies and gentlemen," he repeated for the third time that evening, "I seem to have lost my place... where was I?"

A young girl's hand raised in the air, and Hermann recognized her instantly. Mako Mori, the museum curator's daughter. He smiled fondly at the girl and called on her to speak up.

"You were talking about the disadvantages the Americans had," she stated calmly, her voice still ever so quiet. And Hermann nodded.

"Yes, quite right, my dear. So, the Americans were severely outnumbered, lacked supplies such as food or weaponry, and were terribly unorganized. Oh, but they had their advantages as well, you know. They knew the land and were fighting on home territory, and they had allies. The French and Native Americans helped them. They even developed a longer distance shooting rifle for sharp shooters to snipe away at British military leaders. If you will all follow me, we shall continue our way down to _The Freed United States_ and finish up there..."

 

—

 

He spotted the paleontologist leaving for the night, casually making his way to the exit, and Hermann grinned almost _wickedly_ as he made his way to catch up to the man before he got his foot in the door.

"Mister Geiszler."

"Oh hey there Herms, how's my favorite stuffy historian doin'?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, my man."

"Oh you insufferable— ah, excuse me. I wished to speak with you in regards to literature."

Newt hesitated but nodded slowly after a second.

"I do not mean to snoop, but earlier I saw in your bag a rather large and impressive looking book. And I wager I detect a J.K. Rowling fan. Specifically her _Harry Potter_ series."

Newton's eyes lit up and he beamed at the other man. He fished around in his satchel that hung from his shoulder until he dragged out the behemoth of a book.

"Yeah, dude! I'm on the last book. I know it came out kind of a while ago and even all the movies are out, but I wasn't as interested in reading it when it actually came out, y'know? It was like, too popular? I know that sounds weird and pretty damn hipstery, but whatever."

"Yes well, I wanted to repay you for what you spoke to me earlier about. I've already read the entirety of this series. And having done so, I know every event that happens." A smirk tugged at his lips. When Newton gave him a puzzled and concerned expression, he continued, "I just wanted you to know that I do hope you are not too terribly attached to that House Elf. Ah, Dobby was his name, yes? He meets a rather tragic demise in that last book."

Newton's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He glanced at the book in his hand then back up at Hermann, only to glance back down. He struggled for words as well as breath, and he just made a sort of choking, gasping noise. His grip on the book tightened a fraction. He fumed for a good few seconds before he was finally capable of words.

"You absolute _dick_ , I cannot believe you would do that! No, you're lying, just trying to piss me off because you got pissed earlier. You don't look like you're lying. Oh come on, Dobby can't die that isn't fair!"

The smirk on Hermann's mouth remained, even after he sidestepped the man and strode out of the building triumphantly, leaving behind a heartbroken and irritated Newton behind him.

Hermann wasn't even ten feet outside the facility when he heard stomping footsteps coming from behind. He halted and turned to see an extremely put off Newton trudging toward him. Hermann's smirk disappeared from his face when the man stomped his way into his personal space, a single finger pointing upwards accusingly between them.

"I'm totally gonna get you back for this."

Hermann sniffed distastefully.

"I mean it, Herms," he all but growled, raising himself on his toes to get in Hermann's face. Hermann held his breath, his heart beginning to race.

"Please do not. I know you are more immature than most children, but please. We are even and we ought to call a truce. I do not think a revenge fueled partnership between the two of us would be good for the work place," Hermann said, words coming out rushed, and his heart pounded in his ears. Newton was so close to him and he smelled of masculine cologne and that was pleasant and—

"All right, fine. Only if you have lunch with me tomorrow. Only then will I cease fire."

Hermann choked on his own intake of breath, taking a stumbling step backward.

"So is that a yes or what, man?"

"Yes, fine, whatever it will take to, ah, stop you from seeking vengeance on me."

Newton was positively _glowing_.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going," Hermann said abruptly, and he turned on his heels to make his way to his car parked on the street, his breath still constricted. And as he pulled away, he could see Newton in his rear view mirror, fist pumping triumphantly, and Hermann felt his heart warm at the sight before he smothered the feeling. This was _Newton_. He _certainly_ did not _like_ him. _Not at all._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by allhailjeremybrett on tumblr

It wasn't until Hermann arrived at his home that he realized he hadn't given any sort of contact information to Newton in order to discuss where to meet for lunch the following day. He pressed three irritated fingertips into his temple and slumped into his sofa. He was in such a rush to leave and, God, why was he so particularly annoyed with himself? It was a planned lunch. With his coworker. That he didn't particularly like.

Although that was a lie, Hermann had to admit that. He admired Newton and his intellect; he had a vast storage of knowledge on the prehistoric creatures that he educated the children on —one had to in order to have such a career —and it reminded Hermann of himself, if only slightly, and how he also had learnt an exceptional amount on a topic and was able to retain it well. So it was true, in a way, that he admired Newton. Well, specifically his mind. He truly was brilliant. He did not look it, though, which was honestly unfortunate. Their poor relationship had a rough start when he mistook Newton for the man who was to replace the display constructor, as he had been inside the exhibit toying with the configuration of the completed pteranodon fossil.

And even though they had not always gotten along, most of their time together becoming bickering sessions mainly in the genre of _my field of study is better than yours_ , there were still times that they were able to hold pleasant conversations and lightly complain about misbehaving children and their uncaring parents. Although, when Hermann complained about younger children not bothering to pay attention, that would instantly prompt Newton to pipe up with a _well maybe you should lecture on a more interesting topic or don't_ lecture _them_ _, you should make it fun_. Which then, of course, set Hermann off.

He was insufferable. Intolerable. Untenable.

But he was still a colleague, a coworker a frien—

No he was not. Not _really_.

He was prosaic. Eccentric. Pestiferous.

But he was still brilliant. And inimitable.

Hermann felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, jarring his thoughts, and he frowned as he fished it out. He had a text. From an unknown number. He sighed.

_**[7:36pm Received]: Hey, it's Newt. From work?** _

_**[7:36pm Received]: You didn't give me your number so i had to find someone who had it.** _

_**[7:37pm Received]: You gave your number to Herc Hansen before me, dude? that hurts my feelings.** _

_**[7:37pm Received]: i thought we were friends. B(** _

_**[7:38pm Received]: but anyways, lunch tomorrow: you like pizza right? theres this crazy good pizza place a few blocks from the museum if you're cool with that. it's called harbor house of pizza.** _

_**[7:39pm Received]: I'm telling you man, that Greek family knows how to cook a mean pie.** _

_**[7:39pm Received]: oh and does 1:00pm work for you?** _

Hermann stared at the barrage of messages flooding his phone. Good lord, even over text message he was annoying. Seven messages was excessive; he could have just written out two longer messages and sent that instead of bombarding his notifications. He shut his eyes and took a breath before typing out a quick reply.

_**[7:40pm Sent]: I see Mr. Hansen's son often and so he wanted to exchange mobile numbers in case of some sort of emergency. Pizza will be fine, yes, and I shouldn't have much issue locating that. Also, yes, 1:00pm will be fine.** _

Hermann hit send and pursed his lips, hesitating before tapping out a quick,

_**[7:41pm Sent]: And I will thank you not to spam my phone so extremely in the future.** _

He had not set his phone on his coffee table when it buzzed several times.

_**[7:42pm Received]: awesome!** _

_**[7:42pm Received]: looking forward to it** _

_**[7:42pm Received]: so i guess i'll see you tomorrow?** _

Hermann felt the corner of his mouth quirk up into a hint of a smile.

_**[7:43pm Sent]: Indeed. I look forward to it.** _


	5. Chapter 5

Punctuality had always been incredibly important to Hermann. He was never late, it simply did not happen. His father was excessively strict about being on time for everything and it was from him where Hermann adopted his obsessiveness with being on time.

Hermann was running late.

He told himself it was hardly his fault. Traffic was an easy thing to blame, but there really was nothing awful about it; no accidents or road work or any particular jam... But nevertheless, he refused to believe it was his own fault just because he may have taken just a little longer figuring out what to wear and how to get his hair to stop sticking up at the back of his head. It was _certainly_ not _his_ fault. Besides, it was not as if it _mattered_ if he was late, he knew Geiszler would almost certainly not be on time either. It was as if he had no respect for other the other party, as if he never had anywhere to be or that he just did not _care_. It was infuriating to see a man with so little concern for when he would show up to anything whether it be work or otherwise. He was just so careless and it drove Hermann up the _wall_ and—

Hermann could see him seated inside from where he parked. His stomach clenched. He was _on time_. Of all the times and occasions, he chose to be punctual to their lunch date. Hermann gathered himself and exited his vehicle to go inside.

"Hermann!"

Hermann cleared his throat and nodded, shuffling his way over to where Newton was, pulling out a chair to slump into. He hooked his cane on the edge of the table to keep it out of anyone's way and forced himself to look up and meet his colleague's eyes.

"I thought you weren't gonna show up, man!" He laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I know it's only been like ten minutes since you were supposed to meet me but you're usually so anal about being on time and all so I thought that you'd be here at one o'clock, like, on the dot."

Hermann blinked at the rush of words that flowed from the other man's mouth and he swallowed.

"Er, my apologies," he said finally once he was certain that Newton was finished talking. "I, ah, ran into traffic."

"What? No way, there was like nothing wrong with the roads when I was on my way here."

"Yes, well, issues can arise rather quickly. Are you implying I would lie about the reasons as to why I am late?"

"Um," Newton started, and he raised his hands in defense, "I didn't say that? But I'm willing to totally ignore that you think I am calling you out on your bullcrap because I am so hungry right now. What kind of pizza do you like?"

Hermann harrumphed and then hesitated, having to think back to when he last had pizza and what it even was before finally saying, "Sausage."

"Oh good, I was worried you were gonna say something horrible like _brrroccoli and mushrrrooms._ God that'd be the _worst_ ," Newton said with a laugh, rolling his r's horribly. "Sausage is good though, we can split a pie."

"Do not mock my manner of speech," he spat, ready to argue with him, but Newton was already up and bounding over to the counter.

 

Hermann sighed irritably when his coworker came back with just the tray of pizza, flimsy looking paper plates, and bottles of water. He was hardly surprised that he had forgotten napkins or silverware; it was clear that he was raised in a barn. Huffing, he stood and lamely made his way over to the small counter, gathering a handful of napkins and a plastic fork and knife. When he eased himself back into his seat, Newton had already separated slices and put one on a plate for each of them. Hermann murmured his thanks as he neatly placed all but one napkin on the table, the last being draped over his lap.

He cut into his slice and blew the steam over his forkful, waiting before he deemed the bite to be safe. He furrowed his brow when he noticed the untouched pizza on Newton's plate, and he glanced up only to be greeted by an offended expression on his face.

"Is there something the matter?"

Newton scoffed, crossed his arms.

" _What_?"

"Nothing. It's just... you're eating pizza with a _fork_ and _knife_?" He rolled his eyes. "God, that's so... _pretentious_."

"Oh yes, excuse me for having table manners—"

"Dude, this is a food you're _supposed_ to eat with your hands," Newt insisted, cutting him off abruptly, "You are literally the prissiest guy I've ever met."

"And you are the most graceless child _I_ have ever met."

"Yeah, what _ever_ , dude."

"I am not your _dude_."

"You seriously have no chill. God, you're such a bitch, y'know that?"

Hermann stared at him, jaw slack.

"Yup, looks like I'm the first person to actually say that to your face. Someone needed to do it and I guess I'm the only one with big enough balls."

Hermann continued to stare at him, an angry flush spreading over his face.

"Okay, um, please don't blow up at me. Uh. Sometimes I don't know where to stop talking out loud and only talk in my head so—"

"Shut _up_ , would you?"

"Okay, yup."

Hermann took a deep breath, sighed.

"I just wanna—"

"No."

"—apologize?"

Hermann paused, one eyebrow poised.

"Um. Yeah."

"Let us finish our lunch so that we may part ways once again, Mister Geiszler."

Hermann pointedly went back to cutting at his pizza in tense silence, taking his time. He frowned when the table jiggled as a result of his coworker's endless restless energy, his cane wobbling dangerously. He huffed and put down his fork in exchange to snatch his cane and swipe under the table at Newton's bouncing leg.

"Ow, Hermann! Dude, what—"

"Would you kindly quit jostling the bloody table?" he hissed, ignoring the man's exclamations.

"Jesus, yeah, fine. Sorry I bounce my leg a little bit, it must be such a nuisance to you, right? I'm just the _worst_ aren't I? I was being considerate—"

Hermann snorted a laugh.

"—hey I _was_ , alright? I was being _considerate_ and not doing something like drumming my fingers on the table because that's noisy and you would've lost your shit at me for that. But whoops, looks like I can't win even when I'm trying to _not_ piss you off. So yeah, wow, my _bad_  I guess?"

Hermann just _looked_ at him.

"This..." he started, hesitated, "isn't how I was hoping this would go."

Hermann hummed.

"Um. So, here's what I propose: try again? Same time, uh... tomorrow?"

"We are both working tomorrow, Mister Geiszler."

"Right, yup, totally didn't forget that. How about we just eat lunch on our break together?"

"Well... I suppose  I can agree to that."

"Cool! Cool, so yeah, let's do that!"

Hermann just smiled and went back to eating.


	6. Chapter 6

Having lunch with Newton the second time was less intolerable than the first. Their third lunch together went almost completely smoothly. It wasn't until the sixth lunch they shared in each other's company that Hermann began to find himself _enjoying_ his coworker's presence during his lunch hour. The thought became most prominent when he _laughed_ at one of his _jokes_. He covered his mouth with a hand to quiet himself, school his expression and return to his sandwich but Newton was staring at him with his eyes wide behind his glasses.

" _What_?" Hermann snapped, sandwich raised halfway to his mouth.

"Um... I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."

Hermann's mouth twisted into a frown and he ignored him, pointedly focusing on the lettuce almost escaping his sandwich.

"We've worked in the same place for like three years and I've never heard you laugh," Newton continued, looking at Hermann with a broad smile. "I like it."

Hermann looked back up at his coworker, his brow knit together, confused. When he finally spoke, his voice was small. "Excuse me?"

"Your laugh, dude. You have a nice laugh."

"Oh."

Hermann stared at his sandwich, cheeks warming at the compliment. He couldn't recall anyone ever complimenting him on something like his laugh. He swallowed.

"I-I like your eyes," he murmured, but he scowled when he heard Newton _snort_.

" _What_? Haha, oh man, where did that even _come_ from?"

"You complimented _me_ so I thought I would compliment _you_. My apologies," he hissed, and he quickly began shoving the rest of his meal into his bag before snatching his cane and standing to leave.

"Aw are you leaving? C'mon, no, don't, I'm sorry for laughing! I just wasn't expecting it is all." Newton stood and reached to grab Hermann's wrist to stop him.

"I'm finished here."

"You took like three bites of your sandwich, sit down."

Hermann straightened his spine, pressed his lips into a thin line. Newton looked like he genuinely wanted him to stay. That and his mostly empty stomach convinced him to sit back down. He supposed he could have someone worse for a lunch mate.

 

—

 

Hermann's day passed by with no further injury to his mood, and he even noticed that Newton pointedly did _not_ cross his path as he usually did. But as Hermann was heading for the door, very intent on going home to eat and relax, he appeared out of thin air, shouting after him with that screechy voice. Hermann stopped by the door.

"Hermann, dude, glad I caught you, buddy. Hey so, you and me, dinner. Tomorrow. Yes?"

Hermann stood dumbstruck, mouth hanging open slightly, but he shut his jaw with a click.

"Um. Is that a no?"

"No," Hermann started, but the shook his head. "That was not a no either, I mean no to say yes."

"No means yes?"

Hermann made a frustrated noise, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes I will have dinner with you tomorrow evening."

"Oh. _Oh_. Cool. Yeah. Uh, I'll text you the deats. Catch ya later, g'night!"

Just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone through the door. Hermann stood, frozen, and he didn't move until minutes later when his phone buzzed in his pocket.


End file.
